


Miles to Go

by Wonko



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Fic Exchange, Light Angst, Missing Scene, sapphicstartrek 2018 fic exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 08:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15360804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonko/pseuds/Wonko
Summary: Beverly comforts Deanna in a missing scene from S07E07: Dark Page.





	Miles to Go

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [@sapphicstartrek](https://sapphicstartrek.tumblr.com) tumblr fic exchange.
> 
> My prompt was angst and hurt/comfort, which I've interpreted in this way. A missing scene from S07E07: Dark Page (the one where Deanna's mother goes into a coma because baby Kirsten Dunst triggers repressed memories of her dead daughter.) This takes place during the night after Lwaxana slips into the coma for the first time.
> 
> Title from the [famous poem](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42891/stopping-by-woods-on-a-snowy-evening) by Robert Frost.

It was deep in the middle of Gamma shift and Sickbay was dark and quiet. There were no patients except Lwaxana Troi, and in her current state she didn’t need a lot of tending to. Anything she did need could be provided by her daughter, who had insisted on sleeping on a spare cot so as to be close to her. But still, Beverly remained in her office, reading up on the latest research into Betazoid telepathy and how it interacted with their physiology, trying to come up with some kind of treatment plan that might help the usually loquacious ambassador.

She knew that the crew of the Enterprise were frequently irritated by Mrs Troi’s antics - no more so than Deanna herself, who never seemed to have been able to leave the phase of being embarrassed by her mother. But Beverly knew that Deanna loved her nonetheless, just as she knew that Jean-Luc, Will, Worf and all the rest were fully invested in Lwaxana’s recovery.

She leaned back in her chair and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. She’d been reading for hours, reading until her eyes itched and her brain began to freeze up, but she was no closer to finding a solution to the mystery. Standing up and stretching the cricks out of her back, she treaded carefully and quietly into the darkened Sickbay. She leaned her hip against the entryway and crossed her arms over her chest, sighing as her eyes adjusted to the low light. Lwaxana’s condition was unchanged, she could see that without looking at the monitors. Deanna was lying on her side on a cot a few metres away from her mother, her eyes closed, her face troubled. Beverly caught her bottom lip between her teeth and frowned.

“I can feel you worrying from here.”

Beverly jumped, startled by the unexpected voice. “I thought you were asleep,” she said after a moment, mock-sternly, pushing herself away from the wall and crossing quietly to stand by Deanna’s bedside.

Deanna opened her eyes and looked up at her tiredly. “And I thought you suggested we  _ all _ get some rest,” she shot back, but her tone held no bite.

Beverly pulled a chair over and sat down by the bed. “I couldn’t,” she admitted. “I was worried about you.”

Deanna’s face softened. “Thank-you,” she said. “I’d tell you not to, but-”

“-but you know I’ll do it anyway,” Beverly finished for her, smiling. She reached out and pushed a dark curl behind Deanna’s ear, her fingers resting for a moment longer than necessary on the soft skin of her cheek. “How are you bearing up?”

Deanna shook her head. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Just yesterday I was complaining about her, venting about her irritating attempts to marry me off to the first eligible male she could find. And now…” Her voice cracked as she looked over to Lwaxana’s bed. “Now I might lose her. And all the little things that used to infuriate me so much seem so, so stupid.”

“Hey,” Beverly sighed as she gathered Deanna into her arms. “How you feel is never stupid. She can be annoying and overbearing and your mother, all at once.” She smiled gently. “In fact, I think irritating your children is in the manual they give out to new parents.”

Deanna managed a brief laugh, muffled by Beverly’s neck as she nestled closer into their embrace. “Maybe,” she said. “She has a way of making me feel like a whiny adolescent.”

“You’re very different people,” Beverly said softly. “But you love each other. She knows that.”

Deanna nodded and pulled Beverly a little closer. After a moment, she frowned. “Your back,” she said. “This position must be uncomfortable.”

Beverly sighed in acknowledgement. “No hiding from you, is there?” she teased, pulling back so she could straighten up. She winced, rubbing the small of her back as she stretched.

“It’s true that I can sense your pain,” Deanna replied. “But in this case, it was unnecessary. Your muscle tension gave you away.” She scooted back on the narrow cot, making room. “Come here.”

Beverly glanced over her shoulder on reflex, thinking vaguely of propriety. She didn’t relish the idea of being walked in on by a junior med tech or nurse. But, she reasoned, there was no call for anyone to come here at this hour. And besides, Deanna would sense an approach.

She climbed up onto the bed and pulled Deanna close to her again. Their legs tangled together as they shifted to find a comfortable position, ending up with Deanna’s head resting gently on Beverly’s shoulder, Beverly’s fingers stroking softly through her hair, occasionally massaging her scalp.

They lay together quietly for a long time, so long that Beverly thought that Deanna had fallen asleep. But then the other woman shifted, nestling closer and moving her head over Beverly’s heart. “It’s so fragile, isn’t it?” she whispered into the dark. “A muscle, beating. Everything we are, everything we’ll ever be...tied to a simple rhythm. And when it stops…”

Beverly took a breath, her heart aching for Deanna’s pain. “Yes,” she said at last. “Life is fragile. You never know how long it’ll last, or when it’ll end.” She pulled her head back, looking down at Deanna and waiting until the other woman met her eyes. “I’m going to do everything in my power to save your mother, Deanna. I promise.” 

Deanna nodded. Her eyes were solemn and dark as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Beverly’s lips. “I know,” she said softly, and dropped her head back onto the other woman’s shoulder. “And I want to tell her.” She gestured between them. “About us. When she wakes up.”

The breath caught in Beverly’s throat. “You don’t have to-” she began, but Deanna cut her off by taking her free hand and kissing her palm.

“I want to,” she said. “I wanted to keep it just for us, before. But life’s too short. I love you both. I want her to know it.”

For a moment, Beverly didn’t speak. Her throat was thick with emotion. With a human lover, she might be concerned her silence could be misunderstood, but she knew that Deanna’s empathic senses would be telling her more than Beverly’s words ever could. She took a breath. “Ready for her to start harassing you about getting a wife instead of a husband?”

Deanna laughed softly. “If you are.” She looked up into Beverly’s face, eyes shining. “Are you?”

Beverly nodded. “I am.” Her face softened as she brought their joined hands up to her lips and kissed Deanna’s palm in return. “I love you too, you know.”

Deanna smiled. “Yes,” she said simply. “I do.”

They lay together, whispering in the dark, holding each other and sharing the occasional kiss until Deanna began to slip into sleep. Beverly held her until she was sure she was deeply asleep. She pressed one last kiss to her forehead before gently extricating herself, stroking Deanna’s cheek one last time before heading back to her office.

She’d remembered a paper she’d skimmed last year by a Betazoid psychologist who’d been studying the effects of telepathic stress on the Betazoid brain. Maybe she’d find a clue there. She had a patient to save. And perhaps even more importantly than that: she had a promise to keep.

Sleep would wait.


End file.
